Tag Archives: #LA

LA Bucket List – An Update.

For someone who is supposed to have abundant free time, I have not done very well on my bucket list items to do in LA. Here’s my sad but mildly productive update!

  1. Hike Runyon Canyon
  2. Visit Getty Villa
  3. Bike down the coast from Santa Monica to Hermosa
  4. Drive on Mulholland Drive
  5. Visit Turtle Races at Brennan’s
  6. Go to a Lakers or Clippers game
  7. See the stars at Bar Marmont
  8. Dim sum in Chinatown
  9. Re-visit LACMA
  10. Pizza at Pizzeria Mozza

pizzeriamozza

11.Have a drink at Roosevelt Tropicana pool in Hollywood

12. Visit the Greystone Mansion (it’s a free and fun thing to do in LA!)

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2013: A Recap

I made out with a guy in San Francisco who I am 99% sure was gay and trying to prove a point to his lover, Igor. No, I don’t make this stuff up.

I made it to 5 dates with a vegetarian who made me share non-carnivorous meals with him and he lived at home above his parents’ garage without a bedroom door. Again, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. He now owns the title of the only man I have made it to 5 dates with in 13 months.

My mother grew so anxious over the state of my singlehood that she literally chased down men in the street of Chicago for me.

A drunk best man rejected me at a wedding.

I considered hiring a Los Angeles actor to bring home to my family for Christmas. I decided that taking a vacation to Thailand was a better investment.

I went on a date with a skinny man who invited me to drinks and then he drank iced tea. I felt awkward and judged for enjoying my glass of Chardonnay.

At the end of 2013, I still have my health, an income, wine, and a pretty awesome group of friends. At the end of the day, that makes for a pretty decent year. And the bar has been set very, very low for you, 2014.

Bring it on.

Cheers,

A.

Question.

Question: Why do so many guys on Match.com post shirtless pictures?

3rercy

Ladies in other parts of the US – is this limited to only Southern California? Because they at least have a reason to be posing and running around shirtless most months of the year? It seems to be a rampant trend here in LA.

Or maybe they have all been watching too much of The Bachelor this season and Sean Lowe is their inspiration.

Sean-Lowe-Shirtless-Shower

The End of Gentility.

I gotta ask – when did everyone become such a jerk?

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Mr. Terrible was bad enough. I’m still kicking myself for not having the balls to get up and leave the table in the middle of the world’s rudest date.

Two weeks ago, I found myself one drink in at The Charleston in Santa Monica, a bar I tend to like but unfortunately it has started to attract the likes of drunk younger 20somethings who can’t afford the cover at the Wilshire bar next door.

My friend D. and I were sitting at the bar comfortably having drinks when suddenly over the course of 20 minutes, the capacity of the bar tripled and we were sandwiched in our seats surrounded by drunk douchebags and douchebaguettes (a term I recently learned and love – it means female douchebag!). Now, I’m willing to admit fault that I should have given up and gotten out of my seat sooner, but D. and I were trying to have a conversation. As we talked and finished our drinks, some wasted douchebag kept pushing his crotch into my back as he fought to get the bartender’s attention to order a drink. Repeatedly, he kept shoving into me over the course of several minutes, until I lost my cool.

I stood up and asked him to get out of my personal space. He snapped back, “This place is f–king crowded, what the f–k do you want me to do about it?” We got in each others’ faces for a moment until I backed off and D. dragged me to the dance floor.

So, what happened? Was I — the sober one — at fault for losing it over being shoved into by someone’s crotch repeatedly? Once upon a time, I was that drunk 22 year old. But I’d like to think I never shoved into anyone’s personal space with my crotch. Should I have cut him more slack for acting his age?

Almost fights in bars aside, I’ve noticed a general lack in manners and gentility in this city. Most mornings on my commute (in my car), someone yells and honks at someone from their cars and/or at pedestrians. People in the entertainment industry won’t talk to me at parties because I’m not in their industry and therefore cannot further their career in any way. No one smiles at each other here when I walk around my neighborhood or office. This could be the Midwesterner in me that’s expecting too much out of people, but I’ve encountered much more friendly people in even New York.

That movie Crash got that commentary right about LA – the only interactions strangers have here is when they literally crash into each other. Or almost get into bar fights over invasion of personal space.

The Gentlemen of the South.

I spent the President’s Day weekend down South — all the way to Nashville, Tennessee.

I like Southern guys. Even despite the fact that when I tell any of them that I live in Los Angeles, they make this face:

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(Let’s be honest – I don’t really blame them for making that face.)

The men of the South are like a completely different species than the men of Southern California. They open the door for you, they pay for drinks, and they have no problem walking right up to you and simply saying hello in a friendly, non-creepy manner (although I am sure at the end of the day, they are trying to get into your pants).  Overall, I enjoyed my time chatting with the unassuming men of the South, even though I had to spend most of it biting my liberal tongue.

My favorite encounter of the weekend was the guy from rural Virginia who told me that he shot squirrels and other things as a living, but that since I was a city girl from LA, I probably wouldn’t understand.

He was right; I didn’t understand.